The Sons of Sera: The Ruins of D'lanor
by WaldoRtk7
Summary: Within the subcapital of D'lanor, 3 seperate forces collide, shaking the remaining foundations of the city. Though neither side knows, but this one battle will change the course of Sera forever, and many lives will change before the the next sun rises.
1. Introduction

The sun of Sera beat down across the city of D'lanor; its light glimmered off the elegant buildings that filled the skyline. The streets of the D'lanor were full with bustling car, crowds of people heading to and from work, subway trains traveling to their predetermined destinations. It was a grand site to be seen and one of the first signs that life was beginning to return to normal or at least what people would consider normal after ninety years of war and desolation. This great city had been a deserted waste land only tens years prior and now it was almost back to its former glory. Though there were still scars left, which could be seen from miles away, so later generations would not forget what once took place in this serene state.

Today was a day a marked for remembrance, thousands began to head towards Memorial Square to gain a viable position for the coronation of the new leader of the People's Republic of Sera. He wasn't the first choice to be the leader but he had filled the position of the Arbiter well as the new government was being formed after the overthrow of the Coalition of Organized Governments. Though he was young in age his wisdom and tactical skill was among the highest in the region, but even with all his knowledge many knew that he would never supersede that vast knowledge of his long since past mentor and friend.

This young man stood looking out from the parapet that was overlooking the memorial dedicated to the Forgotten people of Sera, that either died or were lost during Emergence Day and the Day of Dawn. He could see thousands beginning enter in from the Southern Gates and starting to take seats in the luscious green gardens that surrounded the memorials. He turned and stepped back inside the small office were he had been preparing his coronation speech.

The small room where he was dwelling was ill-equipped for man of his rank and stature but it he didn't mind. He rather enjoyed the dullness that dwelt within the room with him; he approached towards the small oak desk that lay next to a stained glass window painted with seraphim and a mighty angelic host. He sat down began to slowly reread over his speech, looking to make any last minute changes or corrections before he had to descent to lower levels of the church. He could hear the meticulous clicking of the hanging wall clock, his gaze began draw towards it as he saw the time a soft knock came at the door.

"Sir, it is time to begin the ceremony." A soft sensuous voice fluttered through the cracks in the doorframe, "Are you ready?"

"I am, but I need to make a stop before I address the people, Angie if you could? Stall or have Johnson begin the coronation ceremony until I arrive at the doors to the church. I won't be long but I need this closer before, I take leadership."

Behind the door she smiled as a small tear fell from her face, "I understand, I will try to 'stall' as long as possible, but try not to take to long the people maybe become suspicious of their new President."

He rose from his chair and collected his belongings, when he turned to the door and muttered, "Thank you," he bent down to collect the rest of his things as he heard footsteps descending quickly away from his loft. He clasped his briefcase shut and walked over to the small tailor mirror next to the door to check his appearance. His grey suit was clean pressed and tailored to fit his slender lean body, his tie was a little offset but after a small adjustment it was no long noticeable. His fair skin was clean and accented by his small brown and grey goatee that covered his chin, his curly dirty blonde hair was slicked back and parted almost perfectly.

He gazed once more over his appearance and then stared deeply into his reflections soft blue eyes, they were peaceful and full of truth, and his eyes could calm and break the most evil of hearts. Something in his eyes showed the deeps and emotions of his soul, many people believe that it was one of the reasons that he was elected and trusted. Only if people knew what his eyes had seen, they might have thought differently.

He tugged down on the front of his blazer and began to breathe heavily; he knew his life was about to change as soon as he crossed the vestibule but there was no point in staying in this room for eternity. He opened the door and began to walk down the stone spiral staircase; slowly he began to focus on his speech. Several moments passed before he realized that he was almost at the end of his descent. He could hear strong voices echoing up the vaulted ceilings, as he reached the base he took sight of a few well dressed soldiers.

After he cleared the stairwell he began to walk towards two burley soldiers, one of which was fair skinned and covered with multiple tattoos and other strange designs, and the other was darker skinned, there was heavy scarring covering his raw complexion. Both men stood erected in waiting for him to approach, as he did smirks began to grow across their faces.

"Sir, we are ready to protect and severe, I mean serve," stated dark soldier, "Excuse my Sirs, I've been um…"

"Drinking again? Johnson, for Christ's sake, you are supposed to open the coronation and you are a freaking blubbering like a drunken sailor after six months at sea! Jones, please tell me that you haven't been drinking too?"

He smiled, "Of course I am not, just not awake yet. I had to make sure Johnson didn't run anyone off the road last night after he decided to loosen up for today's big event. Don't worry about it Angie is going to open instead of this idiot, took three of us to drag him out of the cruiser." He placed his hand on his commander's shoulder and signaled Johnson to head out to the coronation, "How are you doing? Are you ready to do this?"

He shook his head, "No, I seriously wish that there was someone else for this job, I could barely arbitrate the government after we overthrew the Coalition. I just wish that he was here with me to do this."

Jones gripped his commander's shoulder tighter and began to lead him out of the back of the church, "You know why he appointed you over the rest of us, right?" He shook his head, "it was because you were full of ideas on how we could to make this world better even though you didn't realize it. He put a lot more faith in you than Johnson, Angie, or even me; he knew you wouldn't sway back and forth like the branches of a willow, you have learned to follow the voice of the people over those of your closest friends and colleagues."

They stepped through the northern archway and began to head towards a small mausoleum situated away from the rest of the memorials. A soft breeze blew across the green fields of trees, grass; the breeze brought a new sense of serenity to the pair as the journeyed towards the mausoleum. As they reached the locked gates tears began to well in Jones' and his commander's eye, the commander looked up at the words inscribed over the entrance,

"Here lies three, men of honor, valor, and courage. May all remember the sacrifice they paid, may their last words echo throughout time. 'We are the Sons of Sera, may these words spurn the wicked and reverberate in the hearts of the righteous, we won't go quietly into the night, may what we do tonight be remembered for eternity, for SERA!' As their shouts went silent, our freedom rose from the depths. Those who enter, do so in awe of their achievements and not their faults."

Jones stepped forward and used his key to open the gates, a soft musk sailed through the gates as it opened towards them. Both men entered into a vacant hallway guarded by statues of Nephilim, undersized skylights allowed only the smallest amount of light to penetrate the darkness. As they walked through the corridor to the main hall, both men bowed their heads in remembrance and adoration of the hero's that graced the halls, at the end of the hall was a solid oak and iron covered door protected the final resting place of Sera's greatest heroes.

Jones moved to open the doors and as he did a slew of unearthed emotions began to burst forth his commander. As the doors swung slowly open, they could see three statues that shaped in almost perfect replicas of that of their maters. A triad of lights shown brilliantly on each individual monument, each statue was encrusted with powerful brazen gaze that could bring shame to even the most holy soul. But in their eyes there was a mysterious peace about them, Jones slowly began to read their names,

"Victor Hoffman, I was glad to see he finally came to his sense even though it was at the end, General Edward Allen Duran greatest soldier that ever walked the face of this Earth, and last but no least, "The Lone One". Only if he could see how you turned out today, he would have been so proud of you Jacen,"

Jacen's gaze rose as tears quelled and poured down to the floor, "He said he would always be there, but even he couldn't cheat death a fourth time. The fates had his number written and there was no better way for him to leave this world than in a blazing chariot of blood and fire. He worked so hard and yet he never saw the fruits of his labor, I will give him a due place of honor today and I will never forget the Sons of Sera." He pulled up his right sleeve to reveal the insignia of their old disband coalition; memories began to flood the forefront of his mind as Jones interrupted,

"I thinks it's time for all to hear the tale of the Sons of Sera," he bent down next to his friend and hugged his cradled body, "Come on Jacen, we're running late, it is times to get you and this government coroneted. Lone is always watching," Jacen slowly rose to his feet and turned to leave, as he was about to close the solid oak doors he utter his last words at their graves,

"It's time to tell world what really happened, time to tell the story of the Sons of Sera. It is time to end one tale and begin another, time to start again." The door slammed shut behind them leaving the hall in darkness except for a small light that shown on the statue of the Lone One.


	2. Chapter 1

Harsh winds tore across the desolate city of D'lanor, stirring dust skyward that had been lying dormant on the vacant streets of this once grandiose city. It's once magnificent skyline filled with skyscrapers and towering monuments was now covered in barren structures and crumbling foundations. Any kind of normal life was a rare site to be seen in the present state of the region, all plant life had been destroyed during the Day of Dawn, and many of the civilian residents suffered the same fate, their burnt corpses litter miles upon miles.

The city was almost entirely dead, the smallest sounds could be heard echoing through the infertile streets for miles, though the city was absent of civilian life there was still a strong militant force patrolling D'lanor's inner and outer rims. After the Hammers were dropped on the city, a large contingent of Locust forces infiltrated the city by burrowing through its collapsed sewer and railway systems. Their invasion was swift and deadly, any who were lucky enough survive the Hammers, were quickly overtaken by the advancing Locust hordes. After they took hold and routed out the last remaining Coalition forces out of the city, D'lanor became a major staging area for attacks against the Coalitions last remaining stronghold, The Jacinto Plateau.

Though the Coalition of Organized Governments was severely outnumbered and slowly backing themselves into a corner, they still had a few advantages. One being that their capital was position on a plateau with several thick layers of limestone underneath it so that Locust couldn't burrow up through the ground. The second was their orbital weapon platforms, but there were major problems with the technology, their usability was very dependent on the weather and cloud cover and it took twenty minutes to recharge the driver cores. Beside that set back, the Coalition was starting to gain back ground in the Jacinto Basin area though there were only few minor skirmishes any victory against the Locust was a boost to the overall moral.

But D'lanor was going to be the major focal point for the Coalition's next major campaign. They knew if they could clear D'lanor of its new inhabitants, then they might be able to start working on rebuilding and recapturing their lost territory. There were already plans in motion, a small strike force of the Coalition's Omega Squadron to begin an early bombardment on several minor targets so that the ground force begin taking footholds in the outer rim of D'lanor. Omega began to load supplies and ammunition into their King Ravens, as their commander stepped onto the floor.

He was an elderly soldier covered in scars and war medals; his body armor was made of heavy Kevlar coated in black and gun metal fittings. Though his complexion was that of elderly general he still carried himself like that of new recruit fresh out of boot camp, his posture, walk, and demeanor was as solid as cold cut marble. The look in his eyes could strike fear into the most fearless of hearts, as he walked through the hangar his gaze never shifted from his destination. His stride and pace remained consistent like the beat of a metronome, as he approached the flagship a young sergeant followed closely behind.

A small group of Airmen were convening in front of the flagship as the officer arrived, they barely caught sight of him and then they quickly turned to stand erect at attention, "Colonel Hoffman!" they shouted in unison, he glanced over the core of airmen then smirked,

"At ease," his gaze began to look and assess the company; most of them looked young and inexperienced, which wasn't uncommon with the present state of things. The Coalition had drafted many young men to fill the ranks of their dwindling forces after Emergence Day. Though they were young in years, they were the best trained and most experienced Airmen of the Coalition. Hoffman had more pressing matter than to admire the prowess of these men, "Which one of you soldiers is my pilot?"

One of the elderly Airmen stepped forward, he was war torn and battered captain, the look that was set upon his face was grave as he signaled for a middle-aged lieutenant to do the same. "I am sir, Captain Steven Smith," he saluted as was the common practice when addressing a superior officer, "And this is my co-pilot, Lieutenant Jason Marx. Is there something that we can help you with Colonel?"

Hoffman turned quickly in his direction, "Actually there is," Hoffman began to leer, "How about you explaining why the fuck we haven't left this god damn hangar yet?!" His words echoed off the steel beams and aluminum sidings, "Well Captain, I am waiting?"

Smith could see the blood starting to boil within the veins of Hoffman, though he was shocked at the Colonel's bluntness he had half expected it, "Colonel, I think we should discuss this in private, I have perfectly good explanation, but I would rather deal with this out of earshot from my officers,"

Hoffman looked at him skeptically, "Fine by me, Captain lead the way," he understood exactly why Smith wanted to speak with him in private, he was going to undermined his orders and he knew the repercussions would be disheartening to his fellow officers. But as soon as they entered the small office Hoffman was going to lay into his sorry ass like the fire from God.

Captain Smith took the lead and began to amble to the far side of the hangar towards a small flight command office. He knew exactly what he needed to say but he needed to sell the idea to Hoffman, the last thing he wanted to do was fly into enemy territory without an acceptable escape route. As they approached the doorway, Smith reached out and took hold of it the small brass knob and turned it till the door popped and swung open. Hoffman entered in just as Smith closed the door and turned on a small fluorescent ceiling light.

As Smith turned, he could see that Hoffman was leaned up against a series of filing cabinets staring intently into the massive hangar; he was observing the pilots, crewmen, and soldiers preparing the last few aircrafts for liftoff. Smith slowly journeyed over to Hoffman and began to take steady deep breaths, but before he could even get closer than three steps Hoffman's head snapped right at him with an expression colder than steel. Smith froze in place and Hoffman rose and came charging forward,

"You must have balls of fucking steel," his hands lunged forward and nailed Smith against the wall, "Who the fuck do you think you are?! You weren't trained to think or have an opinion, so why in the name of God do you now?!" Though his rage was driving him on, Hoffman was restraining himself from taking another deadly step forward.

Though Smith was completely pinned against the wall he was still going to speak his mind even if caused further discomfort, "Colonel, unlike you I have a general concern for my men's lives. Whoever drew out that flight plan is an fcking retard, it would take us right through the heart of Locust territory, the old downtown district of D'lanor." Smith was hoping that that his words would at least get him a small reprieve but there was no such providence.

"And the problem is? Unless you have a very good reason for this squadron not leave in the next fucking five minutes, you better get the point." Hoffman stated bluntly, he was tired of dealing insubordinate officers and soldiers, though Captain Smith probably had a valid reason to stall for time; he still needed to make an example of someone, and Smith just happened to be the poor sap that incurred his wrath.

"Colonel, that whole area is covered with Seeders; I have been sending probes and drones out all week, as soon as they come within the twenty mile circumference of the downtown district we lose all contact. And the dead zone is growing…" thump, Hoffman dropped Smith to the floor,

"Why wasn't this ever brought to my attention until now?!" Hoffman was in shock and disbelief that something so major was so under looked, "Did you even report this to any of your superiors?"

Smith gulped down a muscle the size of a golf ball, "I reported everything on that table to Admiral Viera, Commodore Higgins, and General Duran. They told me that my findings weren't strong enough to stop the raids and to stop stalling for time." He stood up and hurried over to a table that sat directly in the middle of small room. It was covered with aerial maps, course layouts, pages of orders, and major targets; he started searching frantically for the most recent course changes, "So instead avoiding the matter, I have been searching for the most transversable route into the downtown area. But no matter what route we take as soon as we cross that line, we loss everything, radios, radar, and GPS, but we will still have use of short range radios. Do you see why I haven't been rushing out of the hangar? We leave now and we will most likely not come back."

Hoffman stood hovering over the table looking through the latest patch of orders, "Why the hell would they ignore something as prevalent as this?" Hoffman turned the page of the today's order set and something caught his eye, "Shit, they didn't ignore this, Smith look here," Hoffman pointed to halfway down the page at section notes as "Concerns",

"It has been brought to Central Command's attention that once the Air Raids commence that there will complete radio silence between Central Command and Omega Squadron. It is our belief that even though there are considerable risks to the safety and security of the mission, it will continue as previously ordered. Omega Squadron will take flight, and begin bombarding the inner most regions of D'lanor…"

"Those bastards," Hoffman was infuriated, especially at his commanding officer, General Duran. The two had never taken liking to each other, Duran was headstrong and an over ambiguous tactician, which had led too thousands of unnecessary casualties. Hoffman was on the other side of the spectrum, he was also very headstrong but he believed in small squads over large invasion forces. The two's animosity for each other was no secret to their enlisted and draftees, they both were very open about how much they hated the other.

But Duran had an edge over Hoffman, his rank, which he pulled whenever there was a suicide mission or routine scouting mission that was doomed for failure. Hoffman was obligated to obey or spend the rest of his life in Suriek Penitentiary for insubordination, and Duran knew it. By some feat of divine providence he had survived each one for the last three years, but now Hoffman felt his luck was running thin along with his tolerance for Duran's impudence.

"Smith go get the flight wing ready, we are leaving within the hour," his face was covered in a sour grimace, "make sure we have double the ammunition and fuel than previously allotted, we are going to need it."

Smith looked puzzled, "Sir, we are actually going to go through with this?"

Hoffman addressed him sternly, "We don't have any other options Smith, either we go or stay here and spend the rest of this war in prison. We have to play with the cards we are dealt," Smith turned to walk away then Hoffman added, "but just we remember Smith, we can always cheat." As he finished speaking there a knock on the door,

"Colonel, Colonel, are you done yet?" a soft voice melancholy came from the other side of the door.

Hoffman rolled his eyes, "Yes, I'm done Maxwell, what the hell do you want now?"

"Sir, a currier just dropped off some new orders from Central Command," Smith walked over to the door, opened it, and gestured with his arms for Maxwell to enter as he was leaving. Maxwell nodded in courtesy and then Smith closed the door behind him, as the lock latched the two men could hear Smith shouting out orders,

"Everyone on the deck, get these Ravens in the air! Double up on fuel and ammo supplies, come on everyone move your asses, double time, let's go, let's go, let's go…!"

Maxwell slowly began to approach Hoffman, who was looking over some aerial maps and trajectory patterns; Maxwell was concerned that this new order set might push Hoffman past the edge of sanity. He stood waiting for Hoffman to acknowledge him, but he just kept strolling through the mounds of unread paperwork. Maxwell summoned enough courage to keep pressing forward and almost enough to speak up when Hoffman finally spoke,

"Maxwell, if a I wanted a fucking mute, I would have hired one," he said firmly with an aggressive undertone, he looked up from the paperwork direct at Maxwell, "Are you waiting for some kind of red carpet or your entourage, here let me get on the fucking phones and call them for you." He picked up a desk side phone and began dialing random numbers to mock Maxwell into blubbering out whatever he had to say.

Finally he spat out a single word, "Brumaks," it wasn't enough for Hoffman to go on but it was at least a start for him, "A currier from Duran's office just brought down a new order that once we complete the air raids we are supposed to…"

"Supposed to what, come on Maxwell we don't have all fucking day, the choppers are ready and the pilots starting the engines," outside the pair could hear the engines roaring to life and see the flight crews loading the last few containers of fuel and ammunition,

Maxwell felt the rush and dire need of the situation; Hoffman dropped the paper work and began heading for the door. He saw Captain Smith heading back towards the office, completely downed in flight gear, "Maxwell unless you are going to spit it out, we're out of here!"

"Sir, after we're finished with the air raids…"

"You dumbass, I know that part get on with it!"

"There has been a pair of Brumaks sighted lingering near Memorial Square, after we finish the raids, we have been ordered to change course and engage the targets..." He was about to finish but it was too late; Captain Smith opened the door and signaled for the two, to join him in the flagship. Maxwell shook his head and figured that it would be best to finish this briefing en-route.

Hoffman grabbed Maxwell by the horse collar of his back plate and dragged him from the office towards the Raven flagship, The Alexandria. Halfway through having his ass hauled along, Maxwell gained a footing and broke free of Hoffman's monstrous grip. He hit the cement floor, hard, but at least now he could walk with some dignity instead being drug around like a gutted pig. He rose from the floor and ran to catch up before Hoffman ordered Smith to take off without him.

Smith was the first to reach the Raven; he hurdled into the cabin and tried avoiding the overload of supplies to the best of his ability but he miscalculated one his steps and planted his shin directly into a diamond plate steel ammunition box. Smith cursed heavily under his breath but he continued to the cockpit as Hoffman and Maxwell filed in after him. The pair quickly sat down and strapped in, Hoffman reached into an overhead compartment and grabbed a couple headsets.

One of which he threw into Maxwell's lap and the other he placed upon his head; their headsets were alive with hundreds of different signals and voices. Though at first the sounds were exhilarating and intriguing, Hoffman quickly made sure that he wouldn't be listening to anything but the Omega Flight Team. He raised his hand to his ear and began turning the knobs on the headset to silence the background noise, and then the Flight crew transmissions began to come in loud and clear.

"…This is flight wing Omega checking for clearance to begin take-off, are we clear tower?" The response was almost immediate,

"You are clear Omega; you may begin taking off at you own convenience," there was a short silence on the radios, and the Tower began to speak again, "Omega once you have left the base, we will be under strict and complete radio silence, if there is anything that needs to be said say it now,"

Hoffman muted his microphone, "Tell Duran to fck off, and that he can kiss my ass when I get back," Though his microphone was muted, Maxwell's wasn't and his message was heard as a soften undertone over the entire fleet. The tower remained silent, to the best of his knowledge they probably couldn't have heard it over the engines, but he knew that Duran had heard him loud and clear, something inside him knew Duran was listening very closely but he had no proof.

Captain Smith rang out over the radios, "We're off tower," the Ravens began to elevate off the hangar floor and tear towards D'lanor, the tower echoed back, "Good luck and God speed." The radios fell silent from Jacinto, but the airwaves were filled with the excitement from the men of Omega, until Hoffman came in, "Cut the chatter, we got sht to do, we don't have time for you idiots to sit around and talk like school girls! Man the guns and make sure everything is in working order, NOW!" He knew his orders were hitting on deaf ears and that getting this force ready would be like pulling teeth. Out the blue Hoffman felt something land on his lap, a small manila folder labeled with the current date and the time stamp of when this folder was processed, he turned to Maxwell

"What the fuck is this?!"

Maxwell grinned, "Orders; that you wouldn't listen to on the ground and since we are mid-flight I figure you have plenty of time to read 'em." Hoffman began to thumb through the first few pages of strategies, mission objectives, and viable options of attack. He reached the satellite cartography and photographs and he knew what was waiting for him in D'lanor.

"Maxwell you need to learn to speak up! Freaking hell, now I understand your hesitation but for fuck's sake you need to either throw this at me or actually speak in a language I understand!" He began to read over the patterns of movement, tracking the creatures travels over the past week, "fucking Brumaks, of all the shit, I have to deal with today, there has to be Brumaks, fuck!"

Omega began to fly over and through the very outskirts of D'lanor; Hoffman could see the Trinity River and the suspension bridge adeptly named the Trinity Crossing, off in the distance. He could see the sun spreading out from the middle of the sky and fires raging through out the city. As they began to cross the river and head southwards Hoffman stood up and hung himself out of the main cabin gazing at the old industrial district and muttering to himself, "Today is gonna be a long day, and I only hope that we can survive the night…"


	3. Chapter 2

In the distance he could hear the sounds of Raven engines rocketing towards the regions of D'lanor. He quickly rolled from his position on the sixty fourth floor of an abandoned Serian Financial Building, to check his radio for any clue to whom or what those Ravens were headed for. He flipped it on, and then began listening intently for several moments for any signs or sounds of the aggressors but there was nothing but silence, "Well that's not good, the Coalition must have started their pre-emptive strikes; I have got to hurry."

The young man hurried back to his position, lying down again and he began to wait. Though he was alone in this towering building, he preferred it. He had lived a lot of past three years that way; the silence was soothing to his soul, especially after the trauma it suffered after Emergence day. The loss of his family, his fiancée, and all his worldly possessions were terrible trying upon his mind but the addition of the near mortal wounds that were inflicted to him in his battle with the Fates plagued his everyday movement and mobility.

He zoomed in the scope and waited for any unsuspecting Locust that dared cross his sights, in the back of his mind he knew that wait wouldn't be long. Eventually the Locust Hordes would have to come down this street; the Trinity Crossing was the only waypoint to Jacinto and it wasn't an easy traverse but any means. He and his small group of stranded had made sure that this street would be the last sight that the horde would ever see.

After ten minutes of fruitless anticipation, three Locust scouts came into his view. They slowly moved forward checking for any signs of danger, the street looked safe but something about it didn't feel safe or right, there was an eeriness that flowed down the road as a soft wind stirred the top soil. The first drone moved forward cautiously after lots were taken in their native tongue, it moved quickly and carefully trying not to trigger any explosives or trip lines buried in the soil. It made it almost half way down the street without any signs of danger and took refuge at the base of the discarded Esquire Hotel; it turned and signaled for the duo to follow along the same path.

The man loaded in a clip of explosive rounds into his rifle and then placed a silencer on the end of barrel. He set the shot and waited for the other scouts to come forward on his position, by means of soft whispers he began to communicate with his men on the ground through his communicator, "Richards, I got three in the zone, the first one is zero point one clicks from you. Others are starting move forward, take the lead out on my mark,"

"Roger, Lone." He turned the corner and began looking for the insurgent, "Sht I don't have a shot, I'm moving for a flank," there was some scuffling over the communication frequency, then Richards called back, "I see him sir, just say the word,"

"Wait for it, wait…" Lone took a deep breathe and placed the sights on the front runner of the duo, and fired, "Fire now, fire at will!"

Richards rolled off the corner and began to fire heavily into the unsuspecting victim, and as the fire began to shred through the drone's body and the surrounding walls, its accomplices tried to stop dead in their tracks but that was exactly what they received, death. The sniper shell hit the front runner right in the cranium as he began to stop and then Lone detonated the explosive round after it had passed through the frontrunners head and planted deep into it followers interior pelvic region. The lower half of the drone's body was grated by the explosion; Richards quickly ran out of The Esquire, drew his pistol and placed three well placed bullets into the skull of the drone before it could call out for help.

"Nice save Richard! Johnson, Jones get down there with clean up crews and make it fast, Alexander get your party to drown those bodies in the river. I am going up to the seventy-sixth floor if there is a problem take it up with Jones or Johnson," His unyielding orders echoed out over the radios there was nothing but silence coming back. Lone grabbed his rifle from the rubble, strapped it onto his back, and then he picked up his small radio and headed for the nearest stair well.

His thoughts began to return the times before the war, when he was happy and full of life and not this Harbinger of Death. He thought of his mother Mary and father Norbert, and his brothers Eugene and Simon, but the one that pained him the most was the clairvoyant image of his lost fiancée, Jessica. These thoughts and images had the worst time of emerging, amidst battles or even when he was alone trying to rest his weary soul. In the past few years he had realized that his life pursuits were to give death to his enemies, be the bearer of destruction, and fight to survive it all. And that was the way it had been since Emergence Day, the day that would ever spurn is spirit for the rest of eternity.

He reached the seventy-fourth floor; slowly he trolled the halls for any signs of hostiles or civilians that could be taking refuge within the structure. After several minutes, he went into a half demolished office on the northern end of the building, the door to the room was singed and hanging on by it's last blot. Figuring it would fall eventually; he threw a hard shoulder into and sending it crumbling and crashing to the debris covered floor. He strode into the room and surveyed the area for the most appropriate place to set in for the next wave of attacks, a large portion of the room had been torn from the building by what looked like blasts from M-62 Rockets and Hammer of Dawn fire.

Lone walked over the very edge of the room and looked straight down, the section of missing building was about thirty meters across and fifty meters vertically, this would be the perfect spot for the next series of scouts and troops. There was heavy defoliate on all the floors, and the accessibility to other floors could easily be reached with a rappel; he relieved the sniper rifle from his back and placed it onto the floor, and then began to move debris to protect him from the threat of oncoming fire.

After the cover was set into place, and the emergency rappel was ready for use. He sat in an old office chair and propped his feet upon a rusted steel desk overlooking the streets below. He pulled out a pair of binoculars from his armor and began scanning the street for any sign of hostility, as he did his mind began to wander back to his last peaceful memory, his engagement party. Lone remembered who he was prior to that day, a young ambitious engineer, a few weeks from his wedding, his life was almost perfect…, his eyes slowly closed and his mind drifted back three years to the day his life changed forever.

Tranquility and excitement filled the home of the Gilbert Family, the engagement party set for their son Charles and future daughter in-law Jessica was going almost exactly as planned. The house and yards were covered with decorations, balloons, and plenty of food. Friends and family had come from all across the nation to be apart of this wondrous event. The whole party had been running like clockwork except for one minor discrepancy, the complete intoxication of the groom's side of the family or at least all the male members with the inclusion of several wives.

Mary Ann wasn't a large fan to that kind of party, but the Gilbert men were for the most were docile and peaceful, though rude comments and inappropriate gestures were anything but uncommon. She had tried to avoid having large quantities of alcohol within the premises, but the family had anticipated that problem and brought their own to make up for the short fall. Her husband Norbert could only chuckle at his brothers bringing in case after case of vodka, rum, and beer, it almost looked like they had made a run to every store within the twenty mile radius and he had no doubt that they did.

The couple now stood from the second story balcony overlooking the lively and energetic crowd socializing, relaxing and / or drinking themselves into a coma. For the most part they were pleased with the out come thus far and only hoped that their luck would continue through the night. Mary Ann placed her arms around her husbands waste and squeezed gently and whispered into his ear,

"Don't they look happy," she pointed at her son Charles and his fiancée Jessica who were greeting their guests at the back entrance of the party, she admired the large smile glowing off her eldest's face, "I can't remember the last time when I saw so much joy on Charlie's face." Small tears began to run down her rosy red cheeks and seep into her husband's shirt, "I only hope that their love will last…"

Norbert put his arm back pulled wife along side him, "Do you mean like our wonderful our marriage or like my parents who divorced after thirty-five years?" he gazed seriously towards his son and then let out a small smile, "Come on Mary, for optimist that was a pretty pessimistic thing to say, I can't foresee anything going wrong, at least not right now?..."

The young man stood out in the middle of the garden, searching over faces to find his soon to be lifelong companion. His light brown hair glowed in the receding afternoon sun; his green eyes looked frantically to and fro to find Jessica before she was mobbed by his drunken uncles. His gaze began to divert from his search, towards the advancing sunset and then to the second story balcony where his parents stood in each others embrace. He was intrigued with the deep love that they shared with each other and on the other hand they were sitting ducks for a little verbal attack.

Charles cupped his hands into a makeshift megaphone and yelled towards them, "Hey, are you two going to come down here and socialize with the result of us, or are you too old to enjoy they company others," The entire party's gaze shifted towards the balcony and then Charles continued his verbal barrage, "or do have "other" ways to enjoy each other nowadays?"

He could see that his comments had flustered them, but he could also see a look of death coming from the eyes of his father. The gears in the windmills of his mind were turning and about to unleash the fury of God on Charles' ass. He was waiting for a quick smart ass and quite indignant answer but he knew his father would remain civil with guests in earshot of him. But by the look brewing on his father's face he could see that this situation was about to turn ugly, and fast.

Norbert stared down his son with a look that could have pierced stone; his mind was considering one of two perfect solutions. First of which was to bury his sons with words or option number two, which was going inside grabbing the old hunting rifle and burying a bullet into Charles' chest. Each option was viable but prison was looking like the best course especially with over a hundred spectators looking onward. He decided to just simply state, "You'll be lucky to get to your wedding if you keep that up," trying not to laugh and also not break his stern gaze he added, "and just you remember jackass, I brought you into this world and sure as fcking hell, I'll take you out!…"

Before Charles could announce a reply, Jessica pushed her way though the crowd of family and friends, to step in before things got out of hand. She had seen how violent these little joking feuds had turned after a few turns of passing insults. And she didn't want Charles or his father to suffer from any additional injuries to their pride as well as the extra and unnecessary physical injuries.

Jessica placed her right hand on Charles' left shoulder and then began to the apply pressure and smiled softly, "Now Charles, you remember what happens when I have to get involved with these little disputes," he began to cringe with pain but tried to remain standing, Jessica pulled closer and whispered into his ear, "So end it or I'll break your clavicle."

Charles had no choice; Jessica was a Special Forces officer in the Coalition of Organized Governments. An Enforcer; one of the most prestigious and elite groups of the Coalition, but Charles was the only one at the party who knew this, and only because Jessica let it slip out once in casual conversation. Charles wasn't sure what she really did in her line of work and he really didn't care as along as she was alive and with him,

"It was just a little harmless fun," he pointed to his father, "He is the one that took it to the next level, oww…" Jessica threw a glare at Norbert,

"Don't think that you're getting off scotch free either, I'll deal with that later. Charles if you apologize and I'll let go."

"Alright I am sorry," Jessica released the pressure, "thank god, damn women you need to lay off those steroids." His remark didn't go unnoticed, Jessica would make sure that he would pay for it later and the look on her face told him that he was screwed. Charles regained his composure, "Alright everyone the shows over lets get back to celebrating, if you haven't met my uncles yet, please do you won't regret it."

Jessica ran up from behind him and jumped unto his back, "Now that is better, I so glad tha…"

The earth beneath their feet began to shake, the tables surrounding them that were covered with food and beverages were beginning sink into the ground, then it stopped. It was tremor, but it was completely uncommon for this region of Sera, the Jacinto region hadn't experienced any tectonic shifts in over five hundred plus years and this random act of nature was more than cause for concern. Panic began to set in amongst the guests; speculations began to come forth from all sides of the spectrum, some logical and others were completely outrageous but it was expected considering the situation.

One of Charles' cousins was the first to throw his opinion to the winds, "That was a little odd, I think that might have been an earthquake," whispers and a harsh silence followed only making this sketchy situation even more tense, "but hey I have been wrong before…"

"You're the village idiot of the family, Tom," the shout came from the intoxicated section of the Gilbert family, "Now sit down and shut up before you hurt yourself and someone else." Several beer cans became airborne and pelted Tom into submission.

The next person to openly speculate was Charles' great aunt Joann, "That was no earthquake; it was just a little rumbling from the subway system…"

Tom piped up again, "Auntie Joann, that would be a great explanation, if an fcking subway ran within twenty miles of here!" Another volley of beer cans once again became airborne, and they were more precise than the last set.

"I personally believe they're starting missile tests again from that factory a few miles down, I heard that the Northern Republic of Sera was beginning to mobilize again in this region and the Coalition was reinforcing the area to make sure that the NRS didn't get very far..."

Jessica didn't have the patience to continue listening to speculations and conspiracy theories, "Everyone, this is ridiculous, we just need to calm down and continue enjoying ourselves, and Uncle Robert I can assure you that the NRS won't be coming here to Lexington, for one…"

The earth once again began to shake beneath their feet but this time it wasn't dissipating, in fact the tremors were growing stronger and more frequent. Hard set panic began to grow amongst the crowd; everyone began fleeing in every direction, everyone except Jessica. She was frozen in place as she saw the earth beginning to up turn from the depths of the planet, this wasn't an earthquake, something was coming and she knew exactly what it was.

Charles began to help the elderly members of the congregation into the house when he caught sight of Jessica still standing amidst the garden. Something was different about her, she wasn't the same person as several minutes prior, and her expression was dead like that of an aging corpse. As he moved towards he could see something downed upon her face that he had never seen until this moment, fear.

"Jessica! Jessica!" His voice tore through the air trying to break her silence, "What are you doing?! Why is the hell are you still standing, come on when need to get into inside?!" Something was really wrong, his pleas had fallen upon deaf ears and she still wasn't responding. "Jessica, what is the matter with you can't you see that this is dangerous!"

Swiftly, he hurried over to her, but as he approached he could see her trembling worse than the quakes themselves. Her complexion had gone from a soft shade of pink to a ghastly shade of white, he tried to shake her out of this fear struck coma but it was no avail. He wasn't worried about what or why she was wasn't responding to, he was more concerned with her safety, and that threshold was several meters away. Charles finally decided that if she wouldn't come willing he would carry he back to safety, he bent and picked her and hurried for the backdoor as she slowly began to mutter words under her breath.

"It can't be, this too soon, it's way too soon. We aren't ready, they can't be here yet, we need to hurry, away. Away from here, to stay alive, they are coming!"

"Jessica, what the hell are you talking about?! What? Who?" Charles was growing more worried now than before, something told him that she just had just snapped, "Jessica answer me, for the love of God!" Charles was frantically trying everything in his power to bring her back to reality. Then finally, somehow, she came out of it.

She pushed off from Charles' chest and sprawled roughly of the concrete, she quickly rose to her feet, twenty feet from the back entrance to the house and then grabbed Charles' arm and pulled him away from the house. There was no explanation but he followed aimlessly as Jessica pulled him along,

"Charles, we need to go, now! I don't have time to explain, I just need you to trust me." They came around the front of the house as the rumbling grew stronger, Jessica pulled out her cell phone and tried to call her office but there was no signal. She tossed her phone into the rose bushes and increased her pace, something was driving her and it wasn't just fear, Jessica knew something that Charles didn't but he could put his finger on it. Something in Charles, finally forced the issue of their flight,

"Jessica, you know I would follow you to the ends of the earth, but where are going?!" He breathed heavily as the question burst forth from his throat, "I don't understand why we are leaving everything and everyone behind…"

"Because it's not safe Charles, now shut up and keep up!"

"But where are we going?!"

"The Imulsion Foundries," she ended the discussion there, but that answer left countless questions in the back of Charles' mind. Something about this wasn't adding up and it seemed that the answers he was seeking would be somewhere in those foundries.

Jessica began to guide him down a mixture of roads and alley ways, trying to avoid the streets filled with fleeing civilians. Charles stopped momentarily amidst the chaos, to take one last look at the direction of his home; he hoped and prayed that everything would be alright there but something like a sixth sense kept compelling him to go back. But his better judgment took over and as he turned to catch up with his fiancée as a loud explosion and shrill cries tore through the air, before he could turn to see where it had come from, Jessica was upon him.

She grabbed his arms and pulled him back on course, Charles didn't want to look back again; it was better that he didn't know what had occurred. Jessica pushed their pace harder as the sounds of heavy gunfire and blood curtailing screams followed closely behind; Coalition APC's began to pull into Lexington as the couple passed through, their troops were armed to the teeth but Charles could see fear set heavily upon their faces.

As they traveled deeper into Lexington it was clear that something was attacking the city, but Charles could careless about he was more concerned with survival. Now he was completely exhausted both physically and emotionally, but Jessica was determined to reach those Imulsion foundries and she kept him on a grueling pace, they were closely approaching six mile mark in within the half hour they had left the Gilbert residence, Charles could finally see the towering smoke stacks emitting dark black clouds of sulfur as the Air-Raid Sirens began to bellow across the plain.

Charles turned back to quickly to catch a glimpse of their aggressors; his eyes could not believe what they were seeing. The streets where filled with reptilian bipeds; each covered with very different markings, ruff scales covered their muscular frames as well as a heavy mixture of human blood and soft earth. Within the horde was a mixture of light armored bipeds and some covered in thick red armor, each carried their own makeshift weapon bound together with some type of cord and rusted wire. Following closely behind the front were mixtures of obese and deformed creatures carrying large ballistic armaments and behind them were the fiercest and most terrifying of all.

With each step they took the ground shook hard, their size was enormous and their mounted weaponry was fit to match. These creatures were equal in height to that of a small office building, and their appearance mimicked that of an extinct species of reptile, but that couldn't be possible in Charles' mind. As he looked up to the head of this ferocious, he trembled upon seeing hundreds of razor sharp teeth and multiple brighter yellow eyes staring back at him.

Panic began to set in as the foundry gates came into their line of sight, behind them they could hear massive explosions and a more blood curdling trailing shortly behind them. The heavy gunfire that was so persistent only minutes prior had seemed to be almost calmed and non-existent, which only meant the small force of coalition soldiers had retreated or been slaughtered. And whatever those creatures were, they were gaining ground, and fast.

As they entered the foundry yard, he could see tall dark smoke stacks, fields rusty Imulsion drills and multiple processing plants. Abandoned satellite casings were scattered across the grounds, along with several old transport vehicles. Charles began to wonder if this was the last remnants of the Pendulum War in Lexington, but his thoughts began to shift away from where he was to where he would rather be, back at home with his family. He made promise to himself within that moment, that when this was all over he would go back and look for survivors. Charles looked at Jessica, who's pace had begun to slow and finally decease, as she stopped she took a deep breathe, "…Finally, we've made."


	4. Chapter 3

Charles collapsed from exhaustion, breathing heavily he muttered, "Thank god…," before him stood two towering iron gates, heavy foundations were set on either side

Charles collapsed from exhaustion, breathing heavily he muttered, "Thank god…," before him stood two towering iron gates, heavy foundations were set on either side. Jessica glared at her fiancé despitefully; she was past the point of exhaustion that only the small rush of adrenaline kept her going but unlike Charles, she knew their journey was not over yet. Hunched over and gasping for air, she looked back to see the oncoming horde closing in on their position, frustrated she addressed her beau,

"I wouldn't be thanking God yet, look behind us," in the distant horizon a tall dark figure eclipsed the sun; its red eyes burned with rage, the midnight black armor it wore was almost translucent in the burning fires of Lexington. It stood jeering at the wonderful sight of death and destruction. A small band of local militia emerged from a ruined store and charged the massive creature, as they did a wicked grin grew across its face. From its back, it drew jagged edged blade made of dark steel with veins of dark yellow embedded along the length of the blade.

Charles watched helplessly as the creature viciously slaughtered each of the men. It picked their corpses and hurled them into the fire. The creature looked back at the street filled with fleeing civilians and then it caught sight of him. It raised its head and let out a horrendous roar, and pointed towards the foundries, "Ffffaaaatttteeeessss". Charles quickly looked for Jessica; frantically he searched the street with eyes.

"Jessica!"

From the interior wall of the gates foundation, Jessica peeked her head around the corner, "Charles, shut the fck up…," and as quickly as she appeared, she was once again gone.

Charles quickly rose from the asphalt and sprinted over to the gates, as he turned the corner could see Jessica yelling orders over an old communicator buried within the wall.

"Jess, I'm sorry but I'm under orders…"

"Alexander, open the fucking gates," she pounded her fists against panel, "Now!"

The male voice returned, "Major, I'd love to help you but I can't, I'm not even supposed to be talking to you…"

"I don't give a shit what your orders are, this is my fucking project. And I'm sure as hell not going to die out here…," Another voice came of the intercom, older and more assure,

"Yes you are, because you don't have a choice in the matter, Major." Jessica's face turned red with inundated rage, "You're too late, your window of opportunity has been closed, but I would personally like to thank you for all your hard work on this project but we don't need you anymore…," as the officer was speaking, Jessica began trying to override the gates security lockout but it was to no avail.

"Colonel, you can't do this…"

"That's where you're wrong, I can do whatever the fuck I want," he began to laugh condescendingly over the airwave, "And tell your father hello for me, Hoffman out…" Static was the last thing that Charles heard from the small speaker, Jessica stepped back from the console and un-holstered a pistol she kept hidden at the small of her back. She cocked back the hammer and fire several shots into the console,

"You son of bitch, fuck me! Argh!" Jessica punched the bullet-ridden console, the force of which she did, shattered almost every bone in her hand. However, it did not matter now, Lexington was burning to the ground, the amassing horde was closing in, and the Coalition left her for dead. The only thing she had left on Sera was the man she had taken with her, coddling her broken hand she paced over to him.

Charles stood in the street lost in amazement and sheer disbelief, "How could have this happened…"

"People don't always listen to the truth," Jessica took a stance next to him, "We knew…"

Charles stared augustly at her, "What do you mean 'we knew', is there something that you forgot to mention to me on the way here?"

Jessica dropped her gaze from Charles' look of disgust, "There is a lot stuff that I'm not proud of Charles…, but don't ask questions that you don't want the answers too. All you need to know is…"

"That what? The Coalition knew something like would happen and never told anyone, or they were too busy in their own political bullshit to care about what was going to happen to my family." Charles was fuming with rage, the world he had known was gone and apparently, a lie, "Honestly, Jess, I wish you would have just left me to fucking die with them, it would've been better than this."

Her reaction to his words was all to clear; she flung her broken appendage towards him with all her might, "How dare you! So you think that dying is better than this," It struck him hard across the temple, Charles fell flat upon the surface of Sera, "I didn't have to bring your sorry ass here, but I did. And you know what?! I don't regret it, and neither should you. Our family died so you and I could keep on living. And yes, I said 'Our' family because they were, Charles, I loved all of them too but we couldn't have saved them…"

"They never even tried, don't bullshit me," he pointed past the gates to the foundry itself, "Those assholes don't give a sht about the people out here, it's all about them and what's best for them. Fuck 'em, I'd rather see the whole region burn before I ever accept that the Coalition actually 'tried' to save anyone."

Jessica still coddling her broken hand, turned her back to him as loud shrill pierced her ears. Before she could turn to see, Charles tackled her out the way, as a rocket blasted away the foundations. The massive gates fell inwardly and smashed violently into the earth; Charles picked up Jessica and tore for the foundries. He looked back only once; the creature downed in midnight black armor jeered as the gates fell, it's horde charged the foundries as an armada of rockets barraged the smoke stacks and outer rim of buildings.

Charles' pace quickened through the falling debris and sheered metal casings, each step became more perilous as they approached the foundry doors. Rockets peppered every structure within the grounds, though the entrance was only a few hundred meters away it seemed to be growing more distance with each progressive stride. Within his arms, Jessica held on for dear life, as Charles maneuvered through the labyrinth of wreckage. Jessica felt a presence following them and it was closing in, she pulled up on Charles' shoulder to catch a glance of the pursuer but all she could see were small black shadows shifting through the flames, she dropped back down and look at Charles,

"We're being followed…"

Charles gaze remained intent on the entrance, "I kno…," a dark shadow leapt towards them from a pile of smoldering concrete. The creature swung it's sinewy forearm, barely missing the couple as they passed by, it halted in its tracks a let out a blood curdling screech. The screech carried across the grounds, but Charles did not hesitate as chorus began echoing back at them.

Jessica looked around as hundreds of the creatures began charging through towards the foundry,

"Charles! We aren't going to make it…," Jessica clinched down hard on Charles as the small writhe creatures overwhelmed them. Charles tried to exert his last stores of energy to keep ahead of the main column but the massive numbers were proving to be too much for him. They slashed and dug their claws into the back of his legs, but he drove through the pain knowing that their salvation was only a few more meters ahead.

A large mass struck Charles in his upper shoulders; Jessica fell from his arms as Charles tumbled forward. Exhaustion began to pulsate over Charles; darkness began to overwhelm his vision until his eyes closed as the small creatures began to mount over his sullen and wounded body, with his last gasp of air yelled, "NOOOO!"

The foundry doors burst open as Charles' shouted reached across the chasm of burning sky. Heavy lancer fire tore and repelled the creatures, a dark-skinned soldier moved towards Charles making sure to keep heavy lines of fire on the oncoming horde. He looked over Charles quickly, and then signaled for a light-skinned soldier covered in elaborate and intricate tattoos to move towards him,

"Jones, he's still alive!" he pointed towards Jessica, "We need to get Major Anderson out of here! Alexander, get your ass in gear." A tall slender soldier ran out from the main foundry making sure to keep heavy fire on their flanks, "Dude still runs like he's been raped in prison," the dark soldier muttered to Jones.

"That's what happened when your Hoffman's bitch," Jones and his companion chuckled under their breath, "Johnson, go grab Major Anderson, I'll drag him back." He slapped Johnson's back as he took off running into swarm of creatures, "Alexander get up here and cover Johnson! These wretches aren't going to let up…" Shrill cries began move towards the small contingent like a freight train.

Johnson grabbed a wretch by it's squirming neck, it attempted to bite into his shoulder but he drove his hands into it's mouth and ripped it's jaws apart. He bent down and grabbed Jessica, as the sound reached his ears, "Shit!" he looked directly at Jones, "It's the Fates! We need to get out of here, now!"

Alexander kept fire around Johnson as he rushed the foundry; Jones was tending to Charles within the confines of the building. Charles slowly came around as Johnson brought Jessica through the entryway. Alexander signaled a pair of privates to close and secure the doors. Jessica looked at Johnson and Jones,

"What the hell took you so long?!" she looked irate at Alexander, "Hoffman still got you by the balls?"

"Sorry, Major…"

"Shut up Alexander, I'll deal with you later. Jones would you like to start explaining," Jones walked forward after tying off the last bandage on Charles' leg, his expression was downcast upon the scars that covered his face.

He stood up and looked Jessica straight in the eye, "Sorry, but we had more important things to do before we saved you Major. Hoffman's starting to evacuate the facility, so we had to raid weapons cashes and make sure that the security locks were down so we could get you out of here," he looked grimly over at Charles, "And would you like to explain why you brought him along?"

She grabbed the inner horse collar of his armor and pulled him close, "That is none of your business!" pointing harshly at his eyes with her broken hand,

Johnson spoke up in his comrade's defense, "Actually it is, because we just put our asses on the line to save you…"

"I don't need to hear from you Johnson," as her attention shifted Jones her hand threw her to cold floor. He moved and towered over her,

"You need to hear it from someone because as it stands now," his right hand raised and circled, "we are all fucked. So just tell us who this dude is so we can get out of here."

"You heard the Fates, Major, we don't have time to sit here on our asses," Johnson grabbed Charles and lifted him to his feet, though he was still lost in the confusion his situation he felt more at ease. Johnson looked at him and winked, "Don't worry we ain't going to hurt ya."

Jessica was in disbelief, "So that's how it's going to be? Fine, that's Charles, my fiancé…" Jones shook his head,

"Well ain't that fantastic, you dragged a civilian with you? Hoffman's going to shit a brick!" He walked over to Alexander, standing alert and shaking like a tree in a hurricane, "Go back and report Hoffman, cover for us until we can get back, go." Alexander shot down the hallways as fast as his legs could carry him, Jones turn back to Jessica, "I hope he can hold his own…"

Charles opened his mouth as a rocket tore through a wall on the southern end of the building, Jones and Johnson began shouting orders to the small contingent of men under their control.

"Close that gap! Keep the locusts from punching through, if you see the Brumaks setting up to barrage those walls, get the hell out of here!" Jones looked over at Johnson, "They just blasted through the two foot thick reinforced steel wall. We need to start moving deeper into the facility." Johnson nodded in agreement, the pair moved back towards Charles and Jessica.

Jessica was on her feet already moving towards the next set of doors; Charles revered the courage of the men standing defending his life as Jones put a solid hand on his shoulders, "They'll die protecting us, don't stand here and join them." Charles turned to see Jones' grim expression turned more solemn and peaceful, allow a small grin to pass his lips.

Charles turned and took off to join the others, though he had drained his body of his reserved energy, there was no reason for him to stop and die now. The pain coursed through his wounds and blood oozed into the bandages, but fresh stores of adrenaline kept pulsing through is veins, just enough to keep him from fainting. He approached the doorway and a sequence of explosions ripped through the factory, he turned back to look but Jones shoved him into the long dark corridor and slammed door behind him; he quickly locked the security locks and picked up Charles.

"That won't hold for long," Jones and Charles sprinted down the corridor filled with rusted pipes and faint fluorescent lights. A grim eeriness traveled along the tunnel with them, certain lights flickered in and out of transparency, gasps of steam exploded from the pipes as they moved along to catch up with Johnson and Jessica. Behind him, Charles could hear the screams of the valiant men fade as the oncoming Locust Horde slaughtered all in their path, the sealed door shook as strong fists began pounding against the framework. There was a new fervor in Charles' mind, survival seemed to be close enough to grasp.

At the end of the long hallway Jessica stood focused outside a half opened door, as Johnson paced, waiting for the chance to move in. As they approached, Jones made sure to hold Charles back as a voice raged through the walls and pipes. The voice was the same one heard he at the gates of the foundry "Is that Hoffman?" he questioned quietly to Jones, he nodded as they pressed closure.

From within the room, the group could hear the fermented rage of their commanding officer, "What do you mean, they have blasted through the outer defense. Those walls were re-enforced with two feet of steel, and they are gone? How the fck did those half brained reptiles manage that, Lieutenant?" He turned quickly looking for anyone who would be able to answer him, "No one?! Well fine, then would any of you autism ridden, half breeds like to explain, how the fck those bastards emerged without us knowing first?!"

Silence sat around the room, no one moved or dared even breathe for fear of the repercussions, Hoffman searched the room for anyone with an interest of speaking against him. Lieutenant Alexander stood still trying not to encourage his commander's fury anymore than he already had. News of the outer defenses annihilation sent the Colonel in to a mad tangent; he himself had suffered a several heavy blows for not standing and holding the line.

Alexander had withheld the news that Major Anderson had survived, that small piece of information would have cost him his life. Hoffman turned back to him after the fruitless search for another target,

"Well Alexander, is there anything you'd like to add…" Hoffman clenched his fist waiting for Alexander just to twitch. Alexander's gaze remained fixed in his commander's, trying to leak any information. Hoffman infuriated grabbed Alexander from the chest piece of his armor and lifted him from the ground. Jessica seeing the opportunity, she snatched Johnson's sidearm, kicked in the door, and pointed the pistol at Hoffman.

"Colonel," She nodded to her commander smirking, Charles lost in the moment tried to stop her but Jones, held him back, "Surprised? I thought so, especially after leaving me for dead! Funny how the tables have turned you egotistical asshole."

"Well, isn't a sight for sore eyes, the bitch is back, eh?" He tossed Alexander across the room and un-holstered his side arm, "Looks like Alexander forgot to tell me that, you managed to survive." Hoffman glance at Alexander huddled in corner grasping his chest, "I'll deal with him later, but you must have a death wish coming to see me."

"Not a death wish, more like an injustice that needs to be corrected, and you're the only asshole that can do it at the moment." Charles saw the two, fixed and ready to fire, if either moved an inch. Jones had left him alone as he and Johnson went to prevent any smaller Locust from flooding the tunnel. Searching his surroundings, he found a Lancer sitting amongst a supply of ammo boxes. He moved towards it, trying to stay out of sight,

"I might be the only thing that can save Jessica," he grabbed the lancer made sure it had a loaded clip and then set himself ready in case the tables turned against Jessica. Every officer's gaze stayed fixed on their commanders,

"Major you should have just left, this alone,"

"Left this alone? I'm trying to save lives while you and the rest of the Coalition are trying to save your interests, this project was supposed to warn us if something like was going to happen but you wanted it to be a weapon," tears surged from her eyes, "You learned nothing from what happened in the underground campaigns,"

"Fuck you…" Charles took his chance and emerged from the darken hallway, fully poised with his lancer ready to fire. Hoffman's face went white as Charles and he locked eyes. A feral rage burned within Charles' spirit as Hoffman lowered his pistol, shaking with rage.

"Drop it, asshole…" Charles refrained from trying to intimidate his adversary, Jessica and he had Hoffman out gunned. "Kick it over and sit down."

Hoffman obeyed with great hesitation, "And who are you?"

Jessica piped in, "He's my fiancé, Colonel. Charles you can lower the weapon," her words echoed in Charles' mind but he did not hear them. He moved closure to Hoffman, his rage burned and twisted in hatred, his family and everything he had known was gone and this lone man was responsible. Charles buried the tip of the barrel into Hoffman's throat.

"I want answers, start talking or I'll start shooting," Charles' index finger locked firmly on the trigger, Hoffman gulped heavily as chainsaw clipped into his armor.

"I'm not telling you anything," he looked past Charles to Jessica, "Anderson, is this some kind of sick joke? You brought a civilian here. Are you out of your fucking mind!?" Charles the barrel deeper into his throat,

"This isn't my idea, Colonel," Jessica stepped back, "he's doing this on his own accor…"

"That's right and you are going to start telling where the hell I am and why the fck those things are attacking." Hoffman spat in his face, with a quicken reaction Charles swung the butt of the gun into Hoffman's abdomen. With a gut wrenching burst of pain, Hoffman exacerbated heavily, trying not to provoke Charles anymore then he already had. He looked at Jessica,

"Well someone better start talking, if he wants answers, none of us are leaving until he has some, and those Locusts aren't going to wait forever.


	5. Chapter 4

Shouts over his small radio, broke through Lone's reoccurring nightmare, "We have Boomers and Grenadiers two clicks to the north," Lone sat up from his position and began to search the streets from any signs of the oncoming insurgents, as a familiar voice echoed back to the scouts,

"Martin, starting heading back this way, and don't get caught,"

Lone picked up his radio, "Martin," he spoke forcefully to the young scout

"Sir," strong hesitation echoed back over the radio,

Lone waited several moments before uttering another word, "Martin, we need that contingent to come down towards the Trinity Crossing," he paused, "I don't want to order you to lure them in but you are the only one in their proximity…"

"Lone, you don't have to ask twice,"

Lone grinned sparingly, "Good, Martin, remember not to hesitate," Lone redirected himself towards Jones, "Jones, make sure to kill the timers until Martin passes, I don't want to kill our own men in the crossfire."

Lone heard a series of clicks over the radio, "They're off, but how long do you want them down? And what happens if they are on Martin's heels?"

"Jones, you worry about the detonators and I'll worry about Martin," Lone grabbed his sniper rifle from a pile of rubble; placing it heavily on the weathered desk, he examined it. The two point five meter barrel was covered in patches of rust and decay, the original color and metal was all but fading away, but it's tensile strength had still withstood the tests of time. Lone placed his hand over the end of the barrel scraped heavy flaks of rust from the name engraved plate, a soft smile gleaned through his downcast and harden expression.

"Ah, there we are, The Fate Bringer," Lone reach behind his armor and grabbed a long jagged edged blade ingrained with veins of dark yellow that surged through the darkened steel. He lifted several heavy clamps fixed along the rifle and placed the blade beneath his barrel. A wellspring of memories began to flow through his mind but Jones' interrupted before they could take hold.

"Alexander! Get the fuck off those trip line, did your father not hit you hard enough when you were a kid, you dumb shit. Those lines are live! The land mines are down…" Lone wished for silence again, looking calmly and chuckling to himself, he muted the channels and placed the radio back along his belt. Lone picked up his rifle and journeyed over to the defilade; he lifted the rifle over his head and slammed the bladed edge into a thick piece of concrete. He repeated the process until the blade was wedged firmly between the crags. The blade had withstood years of abuse and yet never dulled, Lone had a strong admiration for it's crafter, it had saved his life more than once.

Lone positioned himself adjacent to the butt of the rifle, placed his eye to the scope he began to search the street for oncoming insurgents. Several minutes passed before anything came into his sights, but in the distance, muffled gunfire was echoing towards him. He set himself tighter against the rifle as Martin sprinted around the corner, tracer bullets protruded through crumbling cement foundations.

Martin cupped his hands together and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Jones, we got trouble!" Crossing through the main street waves of Locust hurdled around corner, all trying to kill the lone scout. Martin ducked and weaved through the oncoming fire; a few frontrunners of the horde began gaining ground on Martin, who was fading fast. Martin looked back to see the Locust Scouts drawing jagged daggers and bayonets out from their armor. He attempted to quicken his pace but his energy reserves were all but gone, behind him, he could feel the ever-looming presence of his pursuers.

A heavy hand swung and slashed an elongated gash into Martin's back, he plead out in pain but kept moving. Lone grabbed his radio from his belt and tuned into Martin's Radio, as another pursuer prepared to pounce on the young man, without hesitation Lone yelled over the radio, "Get Down!" With undue expectancy, Martin dove forward as Lone pulled trigger. The bullet traveled swiftly and precisely into the sternum of the leaping Locust, a loud crack followed by set of explosions shook the earth around Martin.

Jones' timing was impeccable; the moment he heard the shot from Lone's rifle the first line of mines went active. Flames engulfed the street; the oncoming horde froze in the suddenness of the events. Johnson seized the opportunity; he sprinted from the cover of his building, and grabbed Martin from the street. "I got 'em," Martin tried to struggle to his feet as a young woman came to his aid,

"Angie, get him out of here!" Johnson pointed to the back alleyway and then picked up his lancer and moved back to cover. He turned on his radio with all urgency, "Jones, let's get moving, those Locusts are going to charge as soon as those flames dwindle…" He looked outside to see the firewall slowly dropping down, "Reset those charges!"

The flames no longer kept the horde at bay; waves of Grenadiers stood waiting for the final set of flames to die down, the Boomers amongst the horde began barraging the street's office buildings, several rockets blasted out sections of Jones' hideout. One of the few Theron Guards, caught site of Jones moving through the building, the Boomers increased their barrage on the small office building, Lone caught sight of Alexander making his way back to the Trinity Crossing, but there was no sign Johnson or Jones. Lone changed his radio to hit on every frequency,

"Johnson, Jones, get the fuck out of there, now!" Lone began firing rigorously into the horde, trying to give his men a few additional moments to flee the building. The flames that were holding back the Locust finally subdue, as the waves of Grenadiers began pouring down the road. Lone reloaded his rifle, the Grenadiers charged blindly towards the collapsing office building, only to meet a deadly surprise. Massive lines of explosions shook the street as foundations of the building finally collapsed under the tension and stress.

Slowly the Locust horde withdrew down the street after their drastic loses; Lone looked grimly towards the ground as the rubble and dust settled around the foundations. The silence of the radios was unnerving, "Everyone fall back," in the distance Lone caught a glimpse of a Locust soldier trying rally the Horde, "Johnson and Jones are M.I.A., Alexander is in charge until I get down there."

There was a single cheer of excitement from the Trinity Crossing, "Sweet, I've got command!"

A stern deep voice echoed back, "We aren't dead yet Alexander," two burley soldiers emerged from the shadows of The Esquire Hotel, "Sorry Lone, we got nailed by that shockwave of debris, we're heading to the Crossing now."

Alexander's excitement turned into bellowed frustration, "God damn it!"

Johnson wasted no time in harassing his old comrade, "Maybe next time the building will actually fall on us? But then again Richards seems to be the next best guy for the job."

Lone wasted no time in hastening his order, "Shut up and get to the river now, they're regrouping on the western most end of the street." Lone scoped in on the unsuspecting leader of this Horde, "Remember the Fallen…"

Shutting off his radio, Lone aimlessly tossed it aside, "Jones, can handle the rest of this," he whispered softly to himself, adjusting his scope he added, "They just better not do anything brash," Lone remembered an instance several month earlier where a few of his soldiers took the initiative to try to flank and take down a lone Seeder. He had ordered everyone to hold their position but the young soldiers believed that they were more than capable of taking out the creature. They rushed out of cover blindly and a small group of Theron Sentinels set to defend the Seeder captured every one of the soldiers. In that instance, Lone had to make one of the toughest decisions any commander should have to make, he ordered his men to fire upon their own. In the aftermath, Lone personally burned each of the bodies, and carved, "Remember the Fallen" into the corpse of the Seeder. He had no words to echo to his men, but there understood by the grimness of his reaction, and that had been enough.

Now he prayed that he would never have to order for his men to fire on one another again, but only the fates knew what lay ahead for him and his men. With the final adjustments to his scope, he saw the lips of the creatures moving, certain features reminded him of a foe he had faced on Emergence Day. The horde of Locust jeered with every pause within the creature's speech, it finally began to turn to point down the street, Lone fired a single shot, as it's head craned towards the Trinity Crossing.

Lone saw the headless body fall limp to dust ridden street, he smirked idly, as a single united roar rose through the corridors of the streets. In a blind rush of rage, the remaining horde tore for the Crossing without regard for life or limb. Lone wasted no time in eliminating the larger opponents following up from the rear of the Horde, several Boomers fell prey to his fire until a small glimmer of sunlight caught a Boomer's eye.

Lone aimless lost track of the Horde's movement as the supports of two small apartment buildings crashed into the interior street, raising huge plumes of smoke and dust. The momentary blindness was just enough for the Boomers to take aim at Lone's position, before he realized what was going on, several rockets exploded in the floors just above him. As the building began to sway from the sudden shockwaves, Lone tore his rifle from the concrete emplacement, and quickly gathered his gear as several floors of debris began to plummet towards him. He grabbed his rappel began lower himself down, while chunks of concrete peppered down on him; another wave of rockets blasted several sections of building around him. Rashly Lone lifted his rifle and fired directly into a Boomer's chest, knocking him back through an old store window.

The percussion from the rifle sent Lone spiraling downward, knowing that there was no way to prevent the impact; he dropped his gear, and fumbled with his radio. Jones and Johnson were finally crossing over the last section of cover when the shout came over the radio, "My position is compromised…," then the radios fell dead. The Sons of Sera looked to the office building where their commander last reported from, the upper floors of the build collapsed and barreled downwards.

Johnson knew there was nothing they could do about Lone, at least not at the moment. Hundreds of men huddled around the defenses, trying to get their own piece of the action. These men impressed Johnson, though they had lost so much in their lifetime, they still had rallied to their cause and were willing to do what it took to survive. One of the most impressive members within their group was a young man no older than the age of sixteen; his tender expression and distress drew Johnson to him.

Placing a heavy hand on his shoulder, the young man looked up at Johnson. A dim redness clouded around his deep auburn eyes, Johnson could see something was troubling him.

"Jacen, dude what's bothering you?" Jacen looked at the billowing ruins of the Serian Financial Building where they last heard from Lone. Heavy fire began to rain upon the cover; Jacen dropped closure to bridge, as Jones began giving orders to those under his command.

"Hold your fire," a strip of line charge shattered sections of old asphalt, killing off another wave of grenadiers, "Let these bastards onto the bridge. Don't fire until you hear Johnson or I give the go ahead!"

Jacen huddled closer to his Lancer, peering through a small crevice within the cover, "Do you think he made it Johnson," a rocket blasted several meters in front of the wall of cover. Jacen felt the heat of the blast flood through the sandbags,

Johnson took little time in responding, "I won't believe he's dead until I see, there is something else watching over that guy. I've seen some tough dudes through my years of combat but I've never seen someone like him," A lone grenadier bound over their defense, Johnson hurdled towards it before it could lift it's weapon. Smashing it against a burning car, Johnson quickly drew his pistol and euthanized the threat. "Lone has survived more than I can account for, and I have no doubts that he'll make it out of this one."

"But…"

Johnson shook his head, "Jacen, Lone has to fend for himself," he peered over the cover seeing the enemy forces proceeding very slowly now, "And we aren't exactly in any position to be trying to save anyone. Keep your mind on the battle at hand; after we are done here we'll try to help Lone, but not before."

* * * * *

Lone's body lay still, after the ten-story free fall from his rappel it was not surprising. Images slowly began to mix with the heavy sense of pain; dark violent images of his past began to envelop his consciousness. Next to him, a muffled sound stirred through to him, slowly opening his eyes he could see the fire touched sky, the upper floors of the build had collapsed away from the main structure. He turned to see his radio, crushed by the impact, all around him his gear was scattered across the floor. Pain seared through his lower back, but he half expected it after his fall.

Searching his surroundings, Lone caught a glimpse of the horde barring down the Sons of Sera on the Trinity Crossing. Quickly he gathered his gear, and began searching frantically for the Fate Bringer, but he was able to find it. The building now weaken by the earlier barrage creaked and churned with every movement Lone made. Steadily he continued his search as grains of debris fell around him, he knew time was pressing and a prolonged search would only hurt his men. He quickened his pace, the floor beneath him cracked and began to give way; Lone broke into a sprint dove into an open hallway, as another section of the building imploded downward.

Lone looked back to through the doorway to see his rifle hanging from a corroded beam, several meters in front of him. Without thinking, he attempted to retrieve his weapon before it was lost in the void of the building, setting his feet against the back wall he pushed off and leapt back for it. The floor clasped beneath him as reached for the rifle, his hand grasped hard onto the elongated barrel as the beam holding it snapped, sending him plummeting several more stories. Lone slammed the blade of his rifle into the nearest wall to slow down his momentum, but there was nothing within the wall for it to snag.

He fell several more floors before slamming into a slanted section of the buildings old roof, losing his breathe from the impact he slid helplessly downwards as the building above him destabilized and follow him into the void. Lone tucked in his limbs and prepared for the collision, as he hit the base of the retrograde, his body flew through another set of walls. He heard the supports around him dwindling under the stress of the implosion, pulling to his feet; he sprinted though the next series of doorways as the area behind him tore away from the building. He took a moment to relieve himself and catch his breathe, but it was short lived. A steel rafter plunged through the roof where he stood, striking him unconscious, Lone's mind darken once again as his past once again merged with his consciousness.


	6. Chapter 5

Tensions high and lives on the line, Hoffman realized that he had lost control of the situation. This rogue civilian was holding him hostage, and the only thing he could was stare down the cold hard barrel inches from his face. Charles stayed poised with searching for his questions that he direly needed answers too; Hoffman sat still staring back at him callously waiting for someone to make a move to protect him. It took several minutes for him to realize his officers, were not willing to risk their lives for his own.

"Well isn't this, just perfect," Hoffman turned his head to his personal, "We've got a horde of Locust blasting away at our door step and you all are sitting there slack jawed while this asshole has a rifle in my throat, congratulations we are now official, fucked." His officers stood still while Charles flustered with his questions, "So are any of you going to start explaining the situation to this little asshole or are you really going to let him kill me?"

Jessica looked deeply into her commanders eyes, within them she saw something that she had never seen before, fear. Hoffman was scared for his life, but his emotionless cold cut stare hid that fact from everyone else. He had always been that way, cold as steel and an emotionless rock, even after hearing the first reports about the Locust Horde advancing and attacking human settlements, he just stood there staring at her with the same emotionless gaze.

She shifted her eyes to her fiancée, Charles was so lost in all of this and one bullet could make sure that none of them left the bunker alive. Jessica was stuck in a difficult situation; she had to choose her career or Charles, either way she was going to lose something. She readied herself to try to calm Charles down,

"Charles," she stepped into field of vision, "Charles, you need to put the gun down,"

Charles brashly looked straight at her, "Not until I get some answers!"

Jessica put both her hands in the air, "Then we have a lot to cover, and not a lot of time to do so," Jessica slowly stepped backwards, heading for a wall of computers, consoles, and some other monitors Charles couldn't make out. She turned to a small video screen and began scrolling through it, "I have no idea where to start explaining this,"

Hoffman took the opportunity to add his two cents, "How about the fucking beginning," Charles ignored the comment at first but Hoffman continued to voice his opinion, "And if someone would be so kind to get this Lancer out my face!" This time Charles planted his foot heavily into Hoffman's rib cage, he withdrew from the heavy amounts of pain and nausea, Charles had unseeingly cracked several of Hoffman's ribs. Hoffman heaved heavily as Charles returned to watch Jessica, "You'll pay for that…"

Charles looked back down at Hoffman, "Did you say something asshole?" Hoffman's vision rose to meet Charles',

"I said, you'll pay for that," Hoffman clinched tighter around his ribs as he forced air through his lungs. Charles grabbed Hoffman by his armor and buried the barrel of the lancer deep into Hoffman's throat.

"I'm not going to pay for anything, if anyone else is going to die today; it's going to be your ass." The whole facility shook from an explosion above them; Jessica rushed over to Charles and pulled him back,

"We don't have time for this," Jessica rushed over pulled Charles back from Hoffman, though he never broke the gaze at his adversary, "Alexander tie Hoffman down, Charles sit yourself." The young Lieutenant hesitantly grabbed a spool of interlaced metal cable and bound Hoffman to his chair, Charles watched silently never shift his gaze until he was sure that he was safe.

Charles sat down slowly and peered adamantly at the large viewing screen in front of him, Jessica began scrolling through a large number of files, searching diligently for the answers Charles was looking for. The complex continued to rumble as the horde pounded away looking for a way into the massive labyrinth where the small group of survivors now resided.

"Ah here they are," from Jessica's reaction and expression, Charles figured that she had finally found something; Jessica opened a video file marked *Top Secret*. She stepped in front of the viewing screen, it's light emanated around her, "Charles, I told you earlier that we knew about the Locust, but the fact of the matter is that we never expected an attack of this magnitude..."

Charles looked confused at his fiancée, "But you did expect to get attacked? Why the hell didn't dumbass over there take some kind of precautions…" Hoffman lunged forward in his chair, only slam back against the desk, breathing heavily he addressed Charles,

"Listen you impudent asshole," he gasped for a breathe as his raged brewed, "Do you honestly think I'm the only one to blame for this god awful shitty mess? I'm an officer following orders from the Coalition Central Command, just like the rest of these drones."

Charles smirked, "They are the drones? Really now? I find it so amazing that the drones are the one with the common sense and conscience. Now shut the fuck up asshole." He turned back to Jessica, "Jess, can you just show me the video?"

She nodded in agreement, as the video began to play; Charles studied the visuals of an underground chasm, full of stalactites, stalagmites and lime stone deposits, fountains of Imulsion followed through the gaps within the rock faces. He noticed the video's time signature dated to almost twenty or so odd years earlier and there were heavy amounts of static through out the scenes. From what he could make out, Charles realized that he was looking at the heart of Sera, the deep pools of Imulsion began to wind into rivers of the free flowing liquid. Voice slowly began to emerge from the distance.

A small band of soldiers and what appeared to be a small creature clambered through the cavern towards an unknown destination. They moved slowly, trying to anticipate any danger that could be lying in wait but there was nothing beside the brewing and bubbling sound of Imulson echoing throughout the expanse. A pair of privates among the six soldier, began rambling aimlessly at the sight of Imulson,

"Dude, Alex, look at all this Imulsion!" the private gazed deeply into the yellow tinged liquid, "we should sink a well down here and retire," he began searching for a suitable place to begin drilling and his friend planted a heavy foot in his hindquarters.

"Steven, you're a dumbass," Alex mocked with stout irritation, "We have better things to do, than to sit in this shit hole, to build an fucking well!"

"Like what? Seriously look at all that juice!"

"Like getting laid?" the entire company erupted with laughter, "If you spent your time doing that, than I think Vanessa would be a hell of a lot happier, that bitch." A sudden eeriness began to set in with Alex, "And besides this place gives me the creep…, Captain why the hell didn't we just drop this little bastard off at the entrance?"

Their captain turned around and smiled softly, "Simple Alex, Hoffman wants us to make sure that it makes safely back to where ever it came from. And for us to gather as much intelligence as we can about it's species…"

"Well that's a bunch of shit…" Alex interrupted, "Why didn't his straggly ass come along? Because he knew what this little bastard is capable of, you all saw what it did to those scientists, Hoffman is a coward."

Steven agreed with his companion, "Yea, Captain it's not like we are ever going to be coming back down here again, and this thing isn't dumb enough to come back to surface." An evil grin grew across the creatures face, it's eyes burned with deep seated contempt. Charles sensed the danger growing as they moved deeper into the hollow.

As they pressed onward, a massive structure illuminated in the distance, but as they got closer Charles could see that it was not a single structure but an entire city. The city itself eclipsed that of any major city built upon the surface, the walls surrounding spanned miles long and seemed impenetrable.

The locust smiled wickedly, Charles could see by the look on it's face that the soldiers were in imminent danger and they had no clue. Their banter grew silent as they approached the citadel gate. There were what appeared to be massive statues of dinosaurs all along the outer walls, and sentries at every vantage point along it. The gates stood erect before them, each intricately designed and covered with a combination of steel and imulsion fused metals, massive iron crosses inlaid in the center of each.

The squad stood in awe, as the gates slowly churned and groaned as they opened. From the dark shadows beyond the gates, emerged the Locust downed midnight black armor, carrying an elongated sword with serrated edge. Charles eyes opened widely upon the realization, it was the same Locust. It seemed as if time had stood still for it, Charles could feel it's looming presence as it stepped through the threshold. As the gates opened wider, there were thousands of Locust soldiers standing in rank, standing silent as their leader walked forward.

The captain looked quickly and furiously at his men, "Cut it's bonds, release him, now!" His men did so with no hesitation, the smaller locust charged forwarded and kneeled before it's leader. The two only spoke one to the other; the younger bowed his head,

"Kor'mal…"

Kor'mal acknowledged the youngling, as it held out it's hand, he placed his sword within them and stepped back toward the gates. The soldiers slowly began to pace backwards only to find the Locust had surrounded them. Kor'mal looked to his horde, threw both his arms down, tilted his head back and bellowed a single word that echoed throughout the catacombs.

"Raam!"

The horde was unfazed, but Raam stood to his feet and turned swiftly to his captors, his eye burned red with rage. Steven began fumbling with his lancer, "Captain! Captain!" There was no answer as Raam charged forward drove the sword through the Captain's throat. In a panic, Steven began shouting frantically, "Fire at will, Fire at will, Fire at…," shink, a small arrow buried itself in his abdomen, "Shit!..." Steven exploded before anyone could react.

Alex dropped his rifle and tried to flee for his life but before he could get anywhere, Raam was upon him. Raam grabbed the horse collar of his armor, threw him towards the ground and cleaved him in half before his body reached the earth. Raam quickly dispersed with the rest of the soldiers before approaching the camera. His blood shot eyes, pulsed as he yelled,

"For the Horde!"

The room fell silent as Raam's last words echoed resounding off the walls. Charles looked away from the screen; the gruesome scene had been too much from him. Nauseous, he placed his hands on his stomach, and vomited bile unto the ground in front of him, heaving heavily Charles looked over at Hoffman,

"How could you," his head shook with shame, "You sent them to die…" Charles' eyes began to well; his raw unabated emotion began to pour forth. His spirit had been broken, his body collapsed with it. The lancer he had that held so fervently earlier now fell carelessly to the wayside of his body; he now knelt there in total surrender of the situation, staring with cold lifeless eyes.

"And what's worse, is that you knew!" His words echoed in the hearts of everyone in the room, and stirred their repressed emotions, "Now, we are all suffering for it." Charles wiped the bile and froth from his lips but remained focused on Hoffman, "I've lost everything because of your arrogance," Charles turned his eyes to everyone else gazing silently at him, "And you all sat here with him, worrying about one person that matter to you," he paused briefly and closed his lifeless eyes, "Yourselves…"

Once again his words hit home, but harder then before. Charles did not know where these words were coming from, nor could he stop them, he bowed his head and began to pray aloud. "I am a pilgrim in an unholy land; I will not allow this atrocity to happen again. I have one goal to achieve before my dying breath," Charles placed both hands on the ground in front of him and rose from the depths of his despair. When reach his pinnacle, he turned slowly, stared deeply at, Hoffman, "To bring down your government and you with it."

Hoffman's face went white with fear; something within this young man had changed. Like a phoenix rising from it's ashes, a new the fire burned within his eyes, and spread to a luminescent glow around his body. Charles' now stood, with his spirit rejuvenated, strong in the face of his adversary. His face was emotionless, as if frozen by time, but his eyes, never had Hoffman seen such eyes.

"Charles?!" Jessica's concern came without fear of the repercussions, "Think about you're saying! And we did try to stop them..."

"And you failed…" Charles spoke coldly, then looked at her in a way he never had before, with hatred, "What exactly, was your plan? Sacrifice the masses so that Coalition could survive?"

She slapped him with her broken hand, using all her rage and sadness driving as the force, as tears poured mercilessly from her eyes. "I can't believe you! What has happened to you? Where is your compassion?"

"It died with our family," He had hardened his heart to the problems of others; "I am not going to sit here, and wait for those Locust to kill us. There are more answers and the Colonel has them." Charles quickly rearmed himself and aimed his lancer at Hoffman once again, "Start talking, before I start shooting.

"And what the fuck do you want to know? Why we kidnapped Raam, what the purpose of this facility is, or why we did not warn civilian population? Go ahead and pick one, it's not like I'm going to fucking tell you anyways." Hoffman was far past worrying about his life, "If you don't kill me then those Locust will. And either way, I really don't give a shit, cause what you want isn't what's really important right now, so you can just go fuck off."

Charles poised to kill him, but his window closed, a violent eruption tore through the bunker as sirens and alarms began to echo within the corridors, a young female voice sounded over the loudspeakers.

"Our defenses have been penetrated, start emergency evacuation procedures! King Ravens are en route; Once again. The Locust have penetrated our defenses, start emergency evacuation procedures! King Ravens are en route… may God be with you!"

The commander center came alive as the soldiers began arming themselves, collecting important Intel, and finding their out of the facility. Several soldiers made the effort to release the Colonel before the enemy forces overwhelmed their position. Charles could hear oncoming fire echoing through the hallway he had entered through, he rushed to the doorway.

Johnson and Jones were scrambling towards him at full speed, with waves of wretches on their heels. Charles knew they would never make it if he just stood there; blindly he flew in the corridor to help them, as Hoffman ordered,

"Any man, who stays behind, gets left behind!" turning towards Jessica, he added "Major Anderson grab the resonator! We are leaving now!"

Charles had no time to turn back, but his survival was not important now, those men's were. He shouted back at Hoffman, "Come help, you arrogant asshole!"

Hoffman went to the corridor and retorted, "If you want to be an fucking hero than be my guest, I don't really give a shit about whether you walk away from this or not, your aren't my responsibility! Have fun Jackass!" He turned and sprinted towards the other end of the facility.

Charles was determined to do something worth remembering. He turned back and began firing, most of his shots landed in their targets but several sprayed close to Johnson and Jones.

"Hey Charles! We appreciate the assist but let's try hitting these wretches!"

"Sorry! It's my first time actually shooting one of these things," deep down the corridor, dark shadows of larger locust began to emerge, "You guys might want to kick it into high gear, because we got company!

Alexander's voice rang out from the command center, "Johnson! Jones! You got drones and grenadiers inbound! Charles! Get back here too!"

"Alexander, you finally grew a pair! Now you won't have to suck on mine!" A giant smile grew across Johnson's face, "And did the pansy ass lieutenant actually disobey an order?! Well fuck me and call me Shirley!" Alexander's face dropped down in shame, "But think on the bright side, least you won't be taking it like a bitch from behind from dirty ole Hoffman anymore."

Charles felt the dire need to interrupt, "Guys, I know you are really turned on on how Alexander just became a man but I think we got bigger problems!" He pointed down the corridor, waves of Locust Drones, Grenadiers, began to barrel towards them

"Ah shit, we done and gone pissed em off now!" instead of panicking, he swelled up with pride as he reached the door. He decided to add some fuel to this wild fire from hell. "Hey you ugly niggers," waving his arms and performing crude jesters, "You guys want a piece of me?! Come and try to get my black ass, I will make everyone of you deep throat my…"

Charles grabbed him and pulled him the commander center, "I think you made your point, I don't think they need anymore enticement to come and kill the four of us now." He looked around trying to objects to barricade the door or give them some decent cover from the on coming horde. Then he heard the distant sound of helicopter blades cutting the air,

"Maybe, we can make it to the Raven's before the evacuate everyone?

"I would love to but we can't," Alexander looked at Charles grimly, "Hoffman ordered Jack to seal the door," then he looked towards the door that had been welded shut "After, umm…"

Jones looked skeptically at his friend, "After what? What the fuck did you say to him?! Come on start talking, I want to know the reason we're now stuck down here in this shit hole to die."

"Well, I kind of told Hoffman to fuck off and that I was done listening to his bullshit, and that I would rather die fighting with some honor with you guys."

His friends began to laugh hysterically while moving tables and collecting weapons for the oncoming siege. Johnson, knew Alexander's character better than that and was about to reveal the most probable truth about what had happened.

"You are so lying, there is no way your bitch ass said all that to Ole Hoffman," he saw the look on Alexander's face and knew he was right, "It probably went something more like this," Johnson changed his voice to mimic the lieutenant's, "Sir, went can't leave em! Colonel, I am going to help if you aren't! How does that sounds?!" Then his voice return to normal, "Then Hoffman said fine by him and kicked your ass back in here and then order his Jack Of All Trades to seal it up, how close am I?"

Alexander's face lost every ounce of expression and pride, "Fuck me, I will never understand how you were able to guess that."

Johnson pointed towards the door, "It wasn't that hard!" he took a moment before he continued, "I just looked at the all evidence all over the fucking place!" He walked over to the door and pointed, "See first off, there is a shit load paint transfer over here, from someone's armor and you got some big ass scratches on yours, and secondly looked at all these dents! Looks like he threw your ass to the wolves and you tried to break the door down with very little success,"

Everyone began laughing even Charles; he did not understand how they could laugh with death on winds and the horde of angry locust pounding on the barricaded door. "Well I guess you didn't grow a pair, but at least your not Hoffman's bitch anymore," then the smile on his face widen, "Your mine!"

Charles was on his knees again, not from a broke spirit but because he could not stop laughing as Johnson b*tch slapped Alexander every time he began to talk back. These men had lifted his spirits to a point where they had not been since his party. Nevertheless, their good time quickly ended as a sword began pierced straight through steel door and destroying the barricade behind it. Jones started shouting out orders,

"Fuck, he is cutting right through like it's paper, I got to get me one of those," the realization of that their only major defense being shredded away began to hit home, "Guys, get ready! Don't fire until they start flooding in."

Charles filled fear, began to shake violently, as he grabbed the closest weapon to him, a longshot, and took aim. Each of their lives was prepared for the fire that was going to test them, but they did not realize how quickly. As the sword stopped swinging, the door exploded inwardly, the fight for their lives had begun…


End file.
